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-ROBERTA ALICE MOORE 



ireams anb yannes 

BY ROBERTA ALICE MOORE 






Copyright, December, 1910 

BY ROBERTA AI,ICE MOORE 



The Herai^d Publishing Company 
Weatherford, Texas 



CCI.A27821G 



Lovingly dedicated to my parents whose lives 
have perhaps been made miserable by the knowledge 
that their ugly duckling could not — or would not — 
turn in her toes and waddle gracefully along in the 
tracks made by other ducks. 

THE AUTHOR. 



Arkn0uilebgments 



I desire to make an acknowledgment of my appre- 
ciation to my brother, W. H. Taylor, of the Weather- 
ford Herald; and also to the Editor and others con- 
nected with the Herald, who have rendered me valu- 
able assistance in arranging this book. 

—THE AUTHOR. 



Ireams 



A dreamer dreamed, and the world passed him by 

With a shrug or a laugh or a sneer, 
But out of the throng that jostled and rushed 

iSome paused his words to hear, 
And a startled world awoke one day 

And his beautiful dream was made clear. 

A mother dreamed, with a l)alje on her l)reast, 

And a prayer to Him who gave, 
That the young life entrusted should stand for His 
truth 
And' be noble and kindly and brave. 
And one day she rejoiced that through words of her 
son, 
Numberless souls were saved. 

A nation dreamed, while the galling chains 

'Of oppression were tightly hound, 
Men said that it only dreamed in vain, 

No help in it's weakness was found, 
But ere long the tyrant was overthrown 

And the earth rang to freedom's glad sound. 

Oh, give us our dreamers to brighten the world! 

Their visions have helped us to rise. 
Who see with eyes of faith and trust 

A world like to that in the skies, 
For we're lifted to heights we could never have 
reached 

By the dreamer whose dreams were despised. 



€tms 



Yes, 'tis true, there's many places 

That claim the bluer skies; 
That boast of loftier mountains 

That toward the heavens rise; 
That show you forest monarchs 

That longer shadows throw, 
But there's none like dear old Texas, 

Where the wild blue-bonnets grow. 

There are mountain streams far swifter, 

Rushing, hurrying through the land; 
There are rivers deeper, broader, 

'Rolling o'er their gleaming sands; 
But to me there are none other 

On whose banks I've chanced to stand, 
That can match the Colorado, 

Or the stately Rio Grande. 

Yes, I love the grand Pacific — 

There's music in it's roar — 
And I own there's many beauties 

With which nature decks the shores; 
But I watched the glowing sun 

Set over Golden Gate again. 
Longing most to see it setting 

O'er the broad West Texas plains. 



Seren 



While in the mystic North-land, 

With it's dress of snow and ice — 
True the skating was a pleasure, 

And the sleighing, too, was nice — 
I pined to smell the fragrance 

Of a dewy Southern Rose, 
Have the mocking bird awake me 

Where the sweet blue-bonnet grows. 

Sister states I found had heroes, 

Some with queer and Spanish names, 
I am sure they, too, had courage, 

Loved their country — earned their fame- 
But their pictured faces waivered 

As my eyes with tears o'erflowed, 
And in their places stood the heroes 

Of the old gray Alamo! 

O, there may be other places. 

That in time my heart might tie; 
Where a carpet of blue-bonnets 

Fling back blueness to the skies. 
But I've somehow failed to find them, 

And the state which gave me birth 
Is the dearest place, and is, to me, 

The fairest spot on earth! 



Eight 



5[he lermtl's Sream 



A hermit knelt in his barren cell, 

Far away from the world and its din; 

And he prayed: "Hedge up my way with thorns 
That I find not the paths of sin. 

"Grant me to l)riiise <he serpent's head, 

To shiin the wicked man, 
To give my whole life unto prayer, 

If long or slioi't it's span. 

"To keej) my l)ody under rule, 

That vain things tempt me not; 
Compel thou me to come to thee. 

The world renounced, forgot." 

This prayer he prayed — and fell asleep — 

A vision to him came; 
A great host stood at God's right hand 

And praised His glorious name 

And unto each a crown was given, 

Adorned with jewels rare, 
But the hermit's crown no jewel bore, 

Though fashioned marvelous fair. 



Nine 



"Why do no stars bedeck my crown?" 
The wondering hermit cried, 

'*I left the world — 1 liived alone, 
To worship Thee aright!" 

"These," said the Giver, fought the fight, 

They overcame the world; 
Sometimes cast down by Satan's dartvS 

In fury at fhem hurled; 

"But side by side with sin and death 
They bravely moved towards Heaven, 

And for every soul they saved on earth 
To them a star was given. 

"You lived alone; no soul here says 
You broke their prison bars; 

You, by your life have won a crown, 
But these have won the stars." 

The hermit woke, and on his knees 

He prayed: "Though hell should bar- 

I start today, Oh, Lord of Love, 
To fill mv crown with stars!" 



Ten 



S^o yplloui Motktts 

Just take a friend's advice, dear, 
Don't let folks make you run; 

They'll stand around and hoot, dear, 
Before you've half begun. 

Go right on with your work, dear, 
And show your best of skill, 

Some folks won't like your way, dear, 
But then there's some who will. 

How tiresome life would be, dear, 

Should every one agree; 
And all the folks on earth, dear, 

Think just like you and me. 

We'd all get blue and cross, dear, 

■So don't be standing still, 
Some folks won't like your way, dear. 

But then there's some who will. 

The smallest word of praise, dear, 
Will weigh 'gainst loads of sneers; 
They're never worth a thought, dear, 
Much less a sigh or tear. 

Just go on with your work, dear. 

And show your best of skill, 
Some folks, I'm sure, won't like you, dear, 

But then there's those who will. 

There's always idle knockers, dear. 
To tell you that j'ou're wrong; 

While other.s gladly help, dear, 

With praise, and cheer, and song. 

Don't mind the class who knock, dear. 
Just show your best of skill, 

'Tis true they'll never like you, dear. 
But the other kind — they will. 



ElcTen 



Wht Message 



Just two short lines from a letter 
That came at the postman's call, 

"Out here on the tops of the mountains, 
The snow is beginning to fall." 

Thoughts of those snow-capped mountains — 

I last saw them fully dressed, 
Their whiteness upreared to the Heavens — 

Brought to me a vision of rest . 

The burdens and cares so heavy — 

All day they had sorely pressed — 
Slipped off as did Christians' burden 
At sight of ihe cross ever blessed; 

And my heart drew new strength and courage, 

How small after all were my ills, 
How could I have fretted and worried, 

While the snow softly grew on those hills? 

Loved hills, draped in purity's mantle. 
My fretted and sore heart beguile, 

Bid me cease from my childish striving, 
For the things that are not worth while. 

Bid me raise my eyes to thy summits. 

Away from the sordid and low, 
To thy restful heights unchanging. 

With thy pure white crown of snow. 

Does He who clothes thee with whiteness 
Bid thee give this message to each. 

Bid thee stand His monument ever 

And to weary hearts whisper, "Peace?" 

Just a sentence out of a letter, 

But what visions those few words recall — 
"Out here on the tops of the mountains, 

The snow is beginning to fall." 



Twelve 



She leturn of the probf gal 

Sleepless in my room — no light — 
Two a. m. the time o' night — 
Outside noises — jangle — jar — 
Bark of dogs, and switch of cars. 



Through the louder noises round 
One lone cricket ceaseless sounds, 
Doubtless thinking that from him 
Proceedeth all the noise and din. 

Sad of heart — worn — tired of life — 
So unequal is the strife; 
Of pleasure's cup, the dregs remain, 
Bitter memories bring their train. 

Crowd around me, clutch and cling, 
Vain all efforts are to fling 
This darksome brood aside while night 
Spreads her blackness o'er the light. 

A little prayer 1 read today 
Stuck in my mind — will not away — 
Many years have passed and gone 
Since I pleaded at God's throne. 

Dare 1 pray to Him I've slighted — 
Offer Him a life all blighted? 
Will He help me start anew, 
Blot the past and guide me through? 

O'er <he hills the light is dawning, 
Father take me back this morning; 
Husks I've eaten for many years 
Bitter with my own sad tears. 

Weary, tired, heart-sick, sore 
In Thy house I'll starve no more. 
Dispel these phantoms of the night — 
Hold my hand — the day dawns bright! 



Thirteea 



ShcfiaftettftheMJmh 



O, list to the voice of the wind! 

As it wanders o'er woodland and field, 

In its brazenest gloat 

There's a sad little note 
That it never can quite conceal. 

O, list to the voice of the wind! 

Down close to the grass near the ground, 
With a mother's fond care 
It murmurs, "There, there — " 

Yet a sad note too faintl)' sounds, 

O, list to the voice of the wind! 

In the hollovv^s of cliffs by the sea 
Like a giant at play- 
It flings the white spray 

Yet the same wailing note comes to me. 

O, list to the voice of the wind! 

As it scatters the leaves on the ground 

In its gayest of moods 

I've not yet understood 
Why it still makes that faint moaning sound. 

0, list to the voice of the wind! 

As it raves while dark clouds appear 

And we shudder with fright 

At the storm and the night 
Yet the same plaintive notes I can hear. 

0, list to the voice of the wind! 

As it strips the trees of their dress 

With a hurry and rush. 

Then it whispers, "Hush! Hush!" 
And sighs while it soothes them to rest. 

O, list to the voice of the wind! 

As it wanders through forest and dell, 

Catch the low minor strain 

Like a great heart in pain, 
What is the wind trying to tell? 



Fourteen 



5[he Masktvs 



A vision I had of life's highway, 

And a gloom o'er my soul it cast, 
A fair shape sat by the roadside 

And gave to each traveler a mask 
To wear to the end of the journey 

And to lay it aside, none asked. 

To those who were heart sick and weary 

A gayety mask was given; 
On faces where tears were starting 

A mask of laughter was riven. 
And behind each mask deceiving 

All feeling was sternly driven. 

Those who loved took a mask of indifference 

Or sometimes a mask of frowns; 
Those who hated took masks of deception 

And fastened them closely down, 
And many a heartache was hidden 

'Neath a jester's mask and gown. 

"Who is this form who gives them? 

And why do none cast them aside?" 
They answer, "Some say her name's Folly 

And some that her name is Pride; 
By some I have heard her called Wisdom, 

But the masks we must not cast aside. 

"Always we wear them — we maskers — 

Whether given by Folly or Pride, 
Or by Wisdom perchance in mercy. 

Lest others our feelings deride, 
Till we reach the end of life's highway 

Where all masks are laid aside." 

I wept in my vision to see them 

Disguised from their loved ones — their own — 
But I saw at the end of the highway 

All were gathering around a white throne 
And a voice said, "Come, ye need them no longer, 

Ye shall now know as ye are known!" 



Fifteen 



A Morning f rajier 

Lord, fill my heart and soul with "love 

That casteth out all fear," 
Cleanse me and fill me with the faith 

To know and feel Thee near. 
Help me to face the duties hard 

And disappointments hear, 
To know that Thou will daily keep 

Thy children in Thy care. 

Safe in Thy goodness make me glad, 

My gladness let me show, 
That fellow travelers cheered and blessed 

My source of joy may know. 
Help me to daily grow like Thee 

That all may learn through me 
The lesson thou wouldst have me teach, 

To love and live for Thee. 



^nlitube 



Within my boat I lie and idly drift, 
The golden moon above shines through a rift; 
The clouds fantastic, changing figures take 
A giant's head — a grotesque beast some make. 

The lake's calm bosom silvery ripples show, 
Caught from the moon and mirrored down below; 
Beyond the lake dim shadowy trees appear 
Their sweet low rustle I can faintly hear. 

Somewhere a lonely night bird softly calls 
And on my listening ear an answer falls; 
The waves, their soothing rockings never cease 
Around me all is harmony and peace. 

A blissful silence — restful, sweet and calm — 
'Tis here my world- worn "spirit finds a balm; 
'Tis here I 'drift and dream, worn from the day, 
And gain new strength to join tomorrow's fray. 



Sixteen 



Ihe iloon-(gfrl 



Wo went for a stroll in the moonlight — 

My lover Jack and 1 — 
The lake shone like silver before us, 

The stars twinkled bright in the sky; 
The spirit of night was around us 

And myriad night voices sang, 
All nature seemed tuned to the music 

That in our young hearts softly rang. 

The moon sailing high in the heavens — 

Proud royal queen of the night — 
Shone down upon me and my lover 

With her pure and magical light. 
"Look at the Moon Girl!" Jack whispered, 

"How lovely she is and how proud; 
Can you see her? Look closely — 

She is making a veil of that cloud I 

"You can't see her? Come then I will show you, 

She has a beautiful classic profile; 
That dark puff is her hair — next her eyes — 

From their depths a soft light seems to stea-. 
Her nose is Grecian and dainty, 

Her mouth is a Cupid's l)0w, 
Next a kissable chin and a Gibson neck — 

You can see her now I know. 

"I can see her so plainly myself, dear, 

That I wonder that you, too, can't see 
This perfectly lovely Moon Girl 

That the full moon reveals to me. 
You're not looking; that's why you can't see her I 

But on Jack's shirt front I hid my head, 
And as his dear arms held me closely, 

"I'm so jealous. Jack!" I said. 



SeTenteen 



yrtettbshfp 



You would be my friend, you assure me. 
Your eyes say your heart speaks It too, 

But does friendship, to me, I wonder, 
Mean more than it means to you? 

When the sunshine lies thick on life's pathway- 
When meadows are golden with flowers — 

'Tis so easy friendship to proffer 

While pleasure stands guard o'er the hours. 

When prosperity spreads her broad mantle. 

And beauty and love rule the day, 
Ah, yes, friendship's bonds rest so lightly, 

And "My Friend," is so easy to say! 

But should shadows loom vast in the distance 

And threatening thunders play — 
All the meadows lie wasted and barren, 

No flowers to gladden life's way. 

Should adversity oome with her broodllngs — 

Want and sorrow and care — 
Would the prospect still he alluring? 

To call me your friend, would you dare? 

Then think not of friendship so lightly, 

After all, do you offer it still? 
Here's my hand — give me yours, old fellow — 

Yes, we can be friends if you will ! 



Elehteen 



A Prayer 



Father above — all pretext scorning — 
Come I unto Thee this morning 
Asking for Thy guidance on my way, 
Let my lips speak all day kindly, 
Keep my thoughts from straying blindly, 
Let the past be dead behind me 
Just for today. 

Thou alone the pitfalls knowest, 
If I ask Thou kindly showest 
Me the paths wherein to walk each day. 
May I seek not Thy plans to alter. 
May my footsteps know no halter, 
Let my courage never falter, 
Just for today. 

G've Thine angels charge concerning, 
Keep my thoughts from backward turning. 
To the sad mistakes of yesterday. 
I cannot hope that Thou wilt guide me, 
From the storms of life wilt hide me, 
If I keep not close beside Thee 
Just for today. 

Then Father, when the sun is setting 
May there be no sad regretting 
Of a kindness that I failed to do. 
Let me know that peace unending. 
With the twilight softly blending, 
That Thou art to Thy children sending 
Just for today. 



Nineteen 



Pay the price 



All things may be yours if you only know 

That working and striving will bring them to you; 

The price it is high, and few ever attain 

The things all are wishing and hoping to gain, 

But they're yours if you're willing to pay. 

Go steadily forward, your eyes on the goal, 

Do not be affrighted by hisses that roll 

Or by envious mutterings that sound in your ear, 

Pass them by with a smile, refusing to hear, 

For that's part of the price you must pay. 

Don't envy the man that you see far ahead. 

He's no doubt paid in full, wallied the path you now 

tread; 
Lend a brotherly hand to the fellow behind. 
Don't fail to encourage, don't fail to be kind 
You'll be happy while paying the price. 

Then at last when you stand with the few on the top 

You'll wonder that any were willing to stop. 

For only the best ever reach the bright plane. 

And to stand on the heights with the few who attain 

Is well worth the price you must pay. 



Twenty 



Mhntsatmv 

Whatsoever thy hand findeth! 

Let these words ring in thine ear, 
Opportunities surround you, 

Oh, my brother, they're so near. 

Whatsoever! Are you waiting 
To be called beyond the sea. 

To heathen lands to bear the message? 
There are chances here for thee. 

Whatsoever! Hearts are breaking! 

Have you ever tried to cheer 
Lowly ones for whom our Saviour 

Gave His life when He was here? 

Whatsoever! Souls are thirsting 
For the message sweet and true 

That alone can still their longings. 
Who shall tell it? Why not you? 

Whatsoever! Just before us 

Looms the grave where all must go. 

No knowledge there or chance for doing 
Things neglected here below. 

Whatsoever! Live for service! 

God's laws always stand the same, 
He will bless the cup of water 

That is given in His name. 



Twenty- one 



She 21ure of the Sage Irush 

(A Letter from a Friend in Nevada.) 

Have you never scented the sage brush. 

That mantles Nevada's plains? 
If not you have missed the lure of its call 

And it calls to you in vain. 

For no matter where the place or clime 
That your wandering footsteps stray, 

You will sigh as you think of her velvet fields 
With their fragrance of new mown hay. 

Yon may loiter a while in other lands, 

When duty sternly calls, 
But the lure of the sage brush will bring you back 

And hold you within its thrall. 

You may tread the halls of pleasure 

Where the lamps of folly shine, 
'Mid the sobbing of sensuous music 

And the flow of forbidden wine. 

But when the revel is over 

And the dancers all turn and go. 
You will long for a drink from her crystal streams 

That springs from her peaks of snow. 

You will sigh for a sight of her mountains and crags 
Where the storm king holds his sway, 

Where the sinking sun with a brush of gold 
Tells a tale of a dying day. 

And when you die you will want a grave 

Where the Washoe zephyrs blow. 
With the green of the sage brush above your head — 

Why bother to plant a rose? 



Twenty -two 



Ihe Call 



The call of the sea and you! 

The moan of the breakers wild — 

The low sandy har, 

And the white sails afar, 

And your dark eyes that lured and smiled. 

The call of the sea and you! 

The white-caps dancing with glee — 

The vows that we spoke, 

And the vows that we broke, 

While we sat by the restless sea. 

The call of the sea and you! 

Vainly I've tried to forget — 

'Tis useless to roam, 

While the sea calls me home, 

And my heart throbs and aches with regret. 

Thou, my love, and the sea! 

Can it be you were never untrue? 

Though far, far away, 

My heart answers today. 

The call of the sea and you. 



Twenty- three 



le free 



Prom this hour declare thyself free! 

Cast aside all cumbering weights, 
This beautiful world that we see 

Can't be won by malice and hate. 

No limits fix to thy love, 

All mankind as brothers own. 
The beauty of kindness prove 

Nor selfishly journey alone. 

Be brave to defend and to cheer 

Every soul that's discouraged and weak, 
Master of doubt and fear 

Of goodness and mercy speak. 

Be strong other's burdens to bear — 

Forgetful be of thine own — 
Thy gladness and joy freely share 

To harvest, the seed must be sown. 

So today be happy and sing, 

There may be no tomorrow you see, 

As a laborer here for the King, 
Arise and declare thyself free! 



Twenty-four 



S0tt*t 



Don't sit down and whine about it, 

That won't help a bit! 
Don't give up and say that you're 

The only one that's hit! 

Other people have their troubles, 

Don't you be dismayed, 
Right about! and face the music, 

Things will come your way. 

Laugh a little! That will always 

Drive away the blues, 
Boost a little! Sing a little! 

Grouching is no use. 

Hang on to your grit and courage. 

Other suns will rise. 
Things may look entirely different 

Through tomorrow's eyes. 

Just refuse to be discouraged! 

Earth is glad with flowers, 
Keep the sunshine in your heart, 

And don't grow sour. 



Twenty-flve 



€ht Man mm the ilurk-lake 



Look up! A crown hangs there 

Within your easy reach, 
Quit raking in the filth and dirt 

While I a lesson teach. 

And smile! You cannot see 

How far a smile may go. 
No need to speak a word of hope 

With that countenance of woe. 

And lift! You'll never win 
By pulling some one down, 

■Nothing ever yet was gained 
By giving folks a frown. 

And give! Not gold alone. 
But kindly words of cheer. 

We pass this way ibut once you know, 
Then why not help while here? 

And trust! That some day all 
Shall know as we are known, 

Some day shall see with vision clear 
And gladly claim our own. 



Twenty-Bix 



Ihe Sreamer 



She comes when the fog clou'ds drift in from the sea — 

Hiding the sun and the glare — 
On a rock near the Cliff House her fair form appears 

Enveloped and veiled by her hair. 

Her eyes are the shade of the sea-green waves; 

Her hands like some pink sea shells rare, 
Oft-times I catch glimpses of her glorious form 

"When the winds lift the veil of her hair. 

I hear her clear voice like a silvery note 

Above the sweep of the waves — 
"O come my love! O come with me 

To my home in the deep sea-cave! 

"Queen am I, of the vast ocean realms, 

Priceless my treasures of pearls; 
No lovelier palace was builded or seen 

Than my own 'neath this billowy whirl! 

"My couch is of sea moss, softer than down, 
The sea nymphs have decked it for me; 

Fairy lights flash and glitter, strange beauties appear 
In this glorious home in the sea! 

"Long, long have I beckoned and called unto you 

But you would not understand; 
O, sad is the fate of a poor sea maid 

Who loves a creature of land!" 



Twenty- seven 



So I sit here alone while the thoughtless crowds, 
Like the waves, round me surges and swirls, 

They cannot see my fair maid of the sea 
She's too dream-like and pure for the world. 

Men call me mad, as I sit and dream 

On the sands by the restless tide, 
But nothing I care for their curious stare, 

Or the world with its pomp and pride; 

While this sea-born maiden calls from the rocks, 
And I know that some day they shall find 

A. lifeless form washed in by the tide 
And men will say I have drowned. 

And an unkind world will not miss me I know. 
O'er my cold form no tear will be shed, 

Perhaps some one who knew me, shall say to the rest, 
"< 'Tis only 'The Dreamer' that's dead." 

But I shall be with my Maid of the Sea 

In her sea home, deep, cool and fair. 
And there I shall live in a beautiful dream 

With my maid of the sun-kissed hair. 

Hid from this restless, maddening crowd. 

Without feeling or thought or heart, 
A crowd in which I — a dreamer of dreams — 

Have never had any part! 



Twenty- eight 

A Caller 

Who is that softly knocking? 

"Old Age's" the name you say? 
I'm not at home to you, sir! 

Why do you call today? 

Your form is most unlovely, 
Your eye is dim and sad, 

I do not want you here, sir, 

Why come wlien I'm most glad? 

You chill with doleful warnings 
When'er I would be gay. 

What is that you threaten? 
You're coming soon to stay? 

How can I bear to have you 

Always beside my chair! 
And see the frost your fingers 

Daily sprinkle in my hair! 

How bear your withering kisses 
Upon my cheek so smooth! 

I know your business here, sir, 
You think to banish "Youth." 

Now do go 'way and leave me! 

For "Youth" I love so dear, 
Your snowy locks and stooping gait 

I've grown to strangely fear! 

Those years with you beside me — 
Oh, how fhose years I dread! 

Constantly near until I sleep 
Within my silent bed. 

Oh, won't you leave and not come back? 

Gladly I'd see you go — 
You spoiler of my happiness — 

"Old Age," I hate you so! 



Twenty- nine 



Sespafr 



Upon the sands the waves a timber cast 
Only to sweep it outward as they passed, 
Leaving it for a moment on the shore — 
Sweeping it back again forevermore — 
Part of a ship that braved the waves' high crest 
And now denied the shore on which to rest! 
My life's a bit of wreckage on life's sea, 
The sport of waves that never leave me free, 
All promised — nothing given — thus am I, 
And after death, oblivion is denied! 

Before me looms the future, shadowy, vast, 
Hope's torch no ray of light upon its curtain casts, 
A gibbering throng of specters from the past 
Scream in my tortured ears, "Alas! Alas!" 
I pray aloud — the demons mock and hiss — 
The heavens above are brass and God a myth! 
Despairingly I clutch the sands on which I lie, 
Oh, cruel, wicked Pate, I cannot live — I dare not die! 



Thirty 



"I never before spent a pleasanter day! 
Every one that I met looked so smiling and gay; 
You know Jones and I hadn't spoken for years — 
So when he, too, smiled, I most let out a cheer 
And grabbed both his hands in a grip firm and hard 
And said, "Well, how are you today my old pard!" 
He seemed just as glad as I was to make up 
And I've promised him one of my new setter pups. 

"I always liked Jones until we had that row — 
What was it we fell out about anyhow? 
I see, wife, I've missed much in life that is sweet. 
And I'm going to try smiling at all that I meet. 
I listened in silence, then laid down my book, 
"Stand in front of the mirror and take a good look. 
No wonder they smiled and looked pleasant, my dear, 
Your collar's undone — your tie under your ear!" 



fitsfons 



I dreamed that you and I 

Could never more misunderstand 
That man kept faith with brother man 

Through all our mighty land. 
That every evil disappeared 

With Peace our earth was sown. 
And from the seeds sprang up good deeds 

Quickly to fruitage grown. 

That Poverty fled like a mist 

As Plenty took it's place. 
That lines of suffering, care and want 

Were smoothed from every face. 
That joy-bells rang from tower and dome 

And love was born anew. 
These are but dreams, but may I hope 

To see them all come true. 



Thirty -one 



iealh 



The thought of thee, how hitter! 

Universal is thy sway. 
Thy prison all must enter, 

Thy tribute all must pay! 

Thy ruthless hand strikes monarchs 
Nor spares the tiniest flower, 

The wise cannot avoid thee 

Nor guess thy uncertain hour! 

Thy scythe grows never rusty, 
Thy hammer always strikes, 

On thy sea all must venture 
Must pay the price alike! 

The strong cannot oppose thee. 
The richest cannot bribe. 

Always thy stealthy footsteps 
Tread softly by their side! 

Thou implacable enemy of our race- 
Thou pitiless, merciless power — 

Oh, Death! Why dids't thou enter 
This glorious world of ours? 



Thirty-two 



Smiles 



Don't ask me to he smileless 
When all the earth is gay; 

While Youth and Love and Happiness 
Are holding hands at play. 

Don't ask me to be smileless 

While the birds all carol sweet; 

And daffodils and daisies 
Are dancing at my feet. 

Don't ask me to be smileless 

While the rainbow bends and glows; 
And it's softest tints are blending 

In the deep heart of a rose. 

Don't ask me to be smileless 

FoT my heaven's not one of gloom; 

And my creed is not the creed of one 
Who's sent on earth to doom. 

Don't ask me to be smileless 
Though I've aged and stately grown; 
I think I must have gotten twice 
My share of "'funny-bone!" 



Thirty-three 



iihy? 



Why Is it that the frailest back 

Must bear the heaviest load? 
Why is it that the tenderest feet 

Must tread the roughest road? 
Why must our lives be lived in pain? 
Why must our love be given in vain? 
Why sow and harvest not the grain? 

We're always wondering why. 

Why do we find the worthless tares 

Among the ripening wheat? 
Why must we toil when we would sit 

Like Mary at His feet? 
Why must we, weeping, watch while Right 
Is overcome and crushed by Might — 
Held back when v/e would join the fight? 

We're always wondering why. 



€ht Accuser 



Brave am I in the battles of life — 

Strong, courageous and bold — 
Where the fight is thickest I falter not, 

But a coward am I with my soul — 

My accusing, denouncing soul! 

The last am I to dread and fear 

Those things that turn other's blood cold; 
But I weakly cower and shuddering shrink 

When brought face to face with my soul — 

My outraged, indignant soul! 

Oh, what shall I say when at last we two stand 
Where the "years of eternity roll?" 

And what profit is mine if I gain the world 
And lose at last my soul — 
My precious, immortal soul! 



Thirty-four 



lo the 3fal Mm 

"NoTDody loves a man that's fat." 
I'm getting tired of hearing that! 
The man Who's long and lank and thin 
Is not the one my heart to win. 

I want a man Who'll hook my dress 
And not look daggers — Well, I guess! 
One who can steer me through a jam 
And who, if needs be, can say, "Damn!" 

Who'll tell me if my hat's on straight 
And will not scold me if I'm late, 
Whose shoulders are both broad and deep 
To lay my head on when I weep. 

Whose krees are wide — don't have a fit — 
When on his lap I wish to sit, 
Who'll love me all the long days through 
And always, always will be true! 

I'm looking for one just like that; 
Here's to you — Oh, you man that's fat! 



Thirty-flve 



Mtmotxts 



Of a river flowing deep and clear, 

Be ween high rocky walls, 
Cathe:lral cliffs and doires and sp'res 

And wide rock-pillared halls. 

A place in whicli to look for gno nes, 

And fairy tales recall; 
A foot-path leading down below 

A high bridge spanning all. 

Of dry grass rustling 'neath our feet. 

Of autumn's kiss in air; 
Of trees all dressed in red and gold, 

With brown tints everywhere, 
And life was sweet and full of love, 

For you were with me there. 

Together, hand in hand, we roved 

And whispered low of love. 
While strolling by the river side. 

Or climbing rocks above; 

And so with sadness year by year 

I see the brown leaves play. 
For you crushed my heart beneath your feet 

As you did the leaves that day! 



Thirty- six 



A Itllle mtVs Cttittplainl 

I'm tired of being a little girl — 

I want to grow up tall! 
I'm tired of doing errands 

And of running when they call. 

It's "Eva, wont you run do this?" 
And "Wont you run do that?" 

"0, never mind about your dress — " 
And "You wont need your hat!" 

"Now see how quickly you can go, 

"We're in a dreadful rush!" 
I'm never consulted in the least, 

When I'm grown I'll bet they hush! 

I'll just look dignified and say, 

"I'm not your errand boy — 
ril have you understand that I'm 

Miss Evalina Joy!" 

I'll buy just worlds of braids and puffs 

And pin them on my head; 
I'll paint my lips and cheeks until 

They're lovely, pinky red! 

I'm goin,g to have a big house, too, 

With miles and miles of lawn 
That all the little boys and girls 
Can come and play upon. 



Thirty- seven 



There'll be no sign — "Keep off the grass!" 
What's grass good for, anyway? 

I'll stick this sign up on my lawn — 

"Everybody come right here and play!" 

I'll give a party every day 

And serve ice cream and cake. 

And every one may carry home 
As much as they can take. 

I'll have a beau like sister's, too, 
To send me flowers and books, 

He won't be just like Sister's 
For I don't like his looks. 

And lots of other things I'll do 

When I grow big and tall 
I'll sit up late and play with boys 

And I shan't mind at all!" 

I think of something every day 

To do when I grow tall — 
But my! how I do hate to wait, 

It's awful, being small! 



Thirty-eight 



clrulhful lennte 

"Lemme tell you somethln', Mummie," 

Said my little boy one day, 
As he lay full length, on the carpet 

All tired out with his play. 

"All right, tell it to me, darling." 

And laying aside my pen 
I listen to this awful story 

From the lips of my six-year-old Ben. 

"Well, you 'member t'other day, Mummie, 

I was playin' out on the lawn 
With Auntie Mae Bess an' my kitty 

When there corned up the awfullest storm! 

"It blowed us all over in Aferka 

An' Auntie Mae Bess lost her shoe — 

'Twas dretful cold in that country 

An' her foots got all shivery an' blue! 

"It blowed us right up in a tree-top, 
It must been six hundred feet tall, 

An' right in the top was a elphants nest 
Full o' babies so tiny an' small! 



Thirty -nine 



"Aunt Mae Bess was so 'sprised she fell over. 
An' dropped right on down to the ground. 

An' standin' there where she hitted 
What do you s'posen she found? 

"A bull dog as big as a mountain! 

An' he chawed my poor Auntie all up, 
I dest grabbed a big poker an' hit him 

An' I said, 'What you mean, you b-g pup!' 

"He said, ' 'Scuse me, but was that girl your Auntie? 

I'm sorry I took her to chew — 
I'll rest a few minutes an' spit her up 

She'll be dest as good as new!' 

"So, d'rectly he spit out my Auntie 

An' she had a pair o' new shoes. 
An' he took off his hat, and give her a chair 

An' said, 'S't down and tell me the news.' 

"Bennie, you must not tell stories!" 

I caution my promising youth 
"I never will," he soberly answered, 
"Every word o' that was the truth." 



Forty 



iame (ilassttr (Halls 

Take up your foul budget and leave here— 

No gossip today, if you please! 
Go spread those vile wares where they're wanted 

They sicken and rob me of ease. 

Don't open your pack on my hearthstone 

To scent up and poison the air — 
Even the sunlight seems darkened 

When you with your bundle appear! 

Once — e'er I knew you but slightly — 
I looked on the things you dispense. 

And can truthfully say the foul odor 
Has stuck in my mind ever since! 

The years have failed to dislodge it — 

It clings and poisons and holds — 
Throw your mud, if you must, on my garments, 

But don't leave your pitch on my soul! 

I hate your vile calling — abhor it! 

Do not come again to my door, 
You're persistent, obnoxious, annoying, 

As I've told you often before! 

Your visits always bring sorrow, 

But this thought hurts more than the resL — 
While you sometimes come in man's clothing — 

Most oft as a woman you're dressed! 



Forty-one 



lames' fuesltans 

"Auntie did God make everything?" 

(I had answered that question before ) 

James looked up from the playthings 
He had piled on the nursery floor. 

"Yes, darling, He made every creature, 

All things both great and small! 
This world and all that's upon it 

The great loving God made it all." 

"Did he make the negroes, too, Auntie?" 
The small imp pursued with a frown 

"Why did He make some of them yellow 
And some of 'em just brown? 

"Did He have a great big kettle 

Right full of black st'cky dirt 
And did he pick up a big hand-full 

And make 'em? You s'pose'n it hurt? 

"Auntie, how long did it take Him 
To make 'em all out, you guess. 
Don't you s'pect He was awful glad, Auntie 
When he got fru with tlie nasty, black mess?' 



Forty- two 



^ab 



Nine today — the sturdy rascal — 

Blue eyed, merry little boj, 
Home from school he comes all breathless 

Bubbling o'er with life and joy. 

In he rushes, calling loudly, 

"Mama, Mama, where are you? 

Lemme tell you 'bout a boy 
"Who couldn't spell 'shoe'! 

•'Mama, look, is my ear bloody — 

A kid b-t me there today 
Tried to say he didn't mean to 

Teacher's goin' to lick him, — Say 

"Had to stay in half o' recess 

Dropped my book in class an' 'en 

She says, 'Stay in for bein' so careless!' 
An' I dropped that book again! 

"Ought to see us run some races! 

I beat the whole kid bunch today 
My! but that wheel is a dandy, 

Best one on the school grounds, — Say! 

"What you got to eat? I'm hungry, 
B'lieve I'll take a piece o' pie. 

When I'm hungry all inside me 
Feels just like I'm goin' to die. 



Forty-three 



"Got to have a tablet, Mama, 
Used my last sheet up at noon, 

Don't see where my paper goes to 
Use a tablet up so soon. 

"Where's my kitty? Call her Mama, 
She wont come for me sometimes, 

Watch her catch grass-hoppers, wont you? 
She just nabs 'em like they're dimes! 

"Bet she'd eat a hundred of 'em 

Don't you s'pect they'll make her fat? 

If she eats too many, bet they'll 
Turn her to a hopper-cat! 

"Have you seen my nigTer-shooter? 

Most forgot about that hawk! 
Saw him in the trees — I'll get him— 

Bet this rock'll make him squawk! 

"Come out in the yard please, mama, 
Watch me make that old hawk die, 

Guess he's gone — I'd love to kill him! 
B'lieve I could hit him on the fly." 

So he chatters, never ceasing, 

But no music is so sweet 
As the prattle of my school boy 

And the noise of restless feet. 



Forty-four 



Sinah's STrfals 

Chestah, come way frum dat hen coop! 

Youse de worst chile I ever did see, 
Where yo' gets all yo' meddlesome meanness 

Sho' is a puzzle to me! 

Yo' aint one bit like Mis' Nellie; 

An' yo' looks jist lak yo' paw — 
Ouess yo' gets yo' meanness frum dat side, 

Hit sho'ly don't come frum yo' maw! 

What on earf yo' mean by pullin' 
De fedders frum de tuckey's tail? 

If yo' don't change yo' ways 'fo yo' grows up 
Yo'li land right down dar in de jail! 

'Sides dat, de ole d&b'ble'll git yo'! 

Yo' know jist de way he look — 
Hoofs, horns an' tail a draggin' — 

Lack de picture in de ole Bible book. 

Wid a pitch fawk to stick right in yo' 
An' toss yo' kerslap in de flame! 

If yo' don't quit yo' meanness he'll git yo' 
Jist as sho' as Chestah's yo' name! 

Oh, Lawd! Attah all my waTinin'! 

Dat chile sho' is bad clean fru! 
He say if de debble fool roun' dis house 

He'll pull de fedders out ob his tail, too! 



Forty- five 



®ur MJcll-ileaning f rfenb 

Stie drops in for a chat — our well meaning friend — 
E'er the tasks of the day are begun — 

And gives us advise till our head's in a whirl, 
For she knows how it all should be done. 

Her eyes find the cobwebs adorning the wall, 
The floors that have not yet been swept, 

And we writhe 'neath the scorn her looks plainly 
show 
For she knows how a house should be kept! 

She pours o'er the verses we love so to pen. 

The meter she says is not good, 
Does she write? Dear me, no! Such a pity we think 

For she surely knows how if she would. 

But saddest of all she never was wed! 

Model children her virtues should praise. 
We blush for our sons as she shows us their faults, 

For she knows how they ought to be raised. 

Had she a husband, a model to be. 

How proudly his name we'd extoU! 
The one perfect man we could show to the rest 

For she knows how one should be controlled, 

"Oh, deliver!" we pray from the depths of our heart. 

As falls the last rays of the sun — 
"Not from enemies. Lord, but from well-meaning 
friends 

Who know how it all should be done!" 

And sometimes we fear — our mistakes all forgiven — 
We shall find on the throne by His son. 

Our well-meaning friend — God taking a rest — 
For she'll know just how Heaven shoald be run! 



Forty six 



iCoue ddalls 



I dwell far up on the mountain heights, 

You in the valley below, 
Look up, and know that above you rise 

The sun-kissed hills all aglow. 

Why stumble alone in darksome ways 

That I, with you can not tread? 
Do you not know that the loveless days 

Hold no joy for you — but instead — 

Down in the valley I look and behold 

Things that are dreadful to see, 
Hearts crushed and bleeding, lives bartered for gold- 

Oh, why don't you climb up to me! 

Each day I shall call, though I'm almost sure 
That the mountain-tops high and free — 

The peace and the grandeur, the flower so pure, 
Your eyes are too blinded to see. 



But I'm lonely up here, and aching my heart. 

Though around me spread beauties subLme, 
And I dread the long years we must spend apart— 
While I reach down my hands, wont you climb? 



Forty- f even 



A sane religion Is our need, 
That without noise, tumult or speed, 
Walks calmly day by day. 

That waits not for applauding throngs, 
To start it off with shout and song, 
Bravely it goes alone. 

It does each duty as it comes 
And needeth not the roll of drums 
To keep it true. 

Unswervingly it stands for right 
And bears this weapon in the fight — 
The spirit's sword. 

Then when the conflict's hand to hand, 
No one but God, who understands. 
It falters not. 

Daily it's walking by our side, 
Faithful, devoid of worldly pride, 
Unrecognized. 



Forty-eight 



€0 My, Slnue 

Sweetheart, how hard 'tis to forget 
The words you spoke when last we met 
The haughty frown, the unkind thrust, 
You did not mean it all, I trust. 

If you could look with sight divine 
Into my heart — it is all thine — 
You'd never, never grieve it more 
And leave it aching, bruised and sore. 

You know I love you, oh, my sweet. 
Don't tread my heart beneath your feet. 
I'm, oh, so sad tonight, but yet 
Smile once, and I shall all forget 



DEC ^< '^^^ 



One copy del. to Cat. Div. 



i:- wm 



(1^ 






PUiipi 




